I am going to harp on a specific piece of golf etiquette that I uphold no matter when, where, or with whom I am playing. It is rate of play and keeping a safe distance between your group and the group in front of yours. This rule is simple. Do not take an eternity to finish a round of golf, and by no means should a player ever hit his or her ball anywhere near the previous party. There are easy solutions to both of these conundrums. If a player usually takes more time to finish a hole, or perhaps he or she needs more time because of lack of skill, then that player should let the party behind him or her “play through” as we like to call it. This is when the slower player(s) tee off, but wait by the tee box for the party following closely behind to fully catch up. When the faster player(s) approach the tee box, they should be informed by the slower player(s) that they have already teed off and point out where their balls are on the fairway (or in the rough), and of course, the slower player(s) should allow the faster player(s) to tee off and make his, her, or their way down the fairway first. Pretty simple. If a player is in the opposite scenario, and the party ahead is taking forever and not allowing an opportunity to “play through,” then the faster party must be patient and wait, and not hit into the previous players. If it gets out of hand and the players ahead are holding up several parties, then there are a couple options: simply skip the hole that you are currently on and come back to it, or, if you are rather unconfrontational then it is also acceptable to notify the clubhouse that there are morons on the course and the officials will usually take care of it. The whole idea here is to not be a jerk, have respect, and do not put anyone in danger of taking a golf ball to the face. No one needs that lawsuit.
I have had several run-ins with this breach in golf etiquette, but one in particular sticks out in my memory. It was on Thanksgiving this past year; my uncle, my brother-in-law, and I decided to get a tee time early in the morning before our family dinner. It was a cold and damp morning, we had had a freeze the night before but the ground had yet to defrost so the short grass on the fairways and greens felt like concrete. The trees had no leaves but the grass was as green as it is after a heavy summer rain. The beauty of the course was impossible not to appreciate even though the weather around us was flirting with freezing. There was no sound on the golf course; the running creeks through the woods were frozen; there were no birds chirping because they had already outsmarted all of us and gone south. Despite the absence of the auditory sense and the bitter cold, the sight of the overwhelming green and the smell of fresh cut grass made it feel like that we were playing in May.
Before we teed off, we had asked the guys working in the clubhouse if there was anyone in front of us. To our surprise, there were people insane enough to play golf on Thanksgiving, but we were informed that they had teed off 45 minutes before us, so we did not expect to see them. Unfortunately our expectations were false, and we had caught up to them around the 7th hole. We did not want to anger anyone on this special day of Thanks, so we just hung back and allowed them to make up more ground. We figured that they are probably pretty decent players if they were dedicated enough to play on Thanksgiving, so we ended up deducing that maybe they are having an unlucky round. We kept our distance.
As we started the back 9, still playing at a rather slower pace in order to not put the guys ahead of us in danger, we noticed that a group of 4 were now following closely behind us. We were trying to be respectable enough to the guys ahead of us, but at the same time not complete imbeciles to the guys behind us. This pattern kept up for about two or three holes until we were on a long par 5 (a hole that can be anywhere between 475 and 550 yards long) when the guys preceding us were trying to chip onto the green, we were in the middle of the fairway, and the guys behind us were waiting to tee off. I thought of how ridiculous this probably looked to a birds eye view. The only three parties on the entire golf course all stuck on one hole… on a national holiday… on a sub-freezing day. No one is having fun at this point. This particular par 5, however, was straight. We knew that the guys behind us could see ahead of where our party was and obviously tell that there were dummies holding us up, so I was scared to death when I heard a ball land five feet from where I was standing. One of the players behind had teed off. I was inhabited by a white rage that drove me past my point of reason. So I did what any hot-tempered golfer would do. I grabbed my driver, teed up my ball, and lined up a shot so I was aiming right back at the inexplicably rude players that almost knocked me out. As I was in my backswing, just about to drive my golf ball right back at them, hopefully through their golf cart windshield, my brother-in-law stopped me. He managed to calm me down and we just continued with the hole.
At the next tee box, we waited for the guys behind us. We figured that it would let the party ahead of us gain enough ground to finish and put an end to this ridiculous clog, as well as give us an opportunity to exchange a word or two with the man who nearly ruined my Thanksgiving. The party trailing us finally pulled up in their carts. I had already planned an assault of curse words I was going to hurl at them. It felt like my ears were steaming like a cartoon; I was so anxious and horribly angry that I felt my teeth grinding. I couldn’t wait to see what these jokers looked like. To my dismay, they began apologizing before they even stepped out of their carts. These idiots kept on surprising me. They said that they did not mean to nearly hit us and simply said that they misread how close we were when they teed off. It was pretty clear that their apology was sincere. Though it was tough to tell because they spoke with thick eastern-European accents (we figured that they did not celebrate the same Thanksgiving explaining why they were on the course in the first place). While I was still trying to burry the slew of insults I had ready for them back into the deepest part of my imagination from whence they came, we let these eastern-European men play through. We shook hands, told them to have a happy Thanksgiving (they looked at us like they did not know what we meant) and both of our parties finished our rounds with respectable distance from one another.
I follow this rule of rate of play even off of the golf course. If I am walking on the sidewalk, I am walking with a sense of urgency. It is a nightmare getting caught behind the type of people who feel the need to take up the entire walkway with 5 people who are each walking like they are under water. Similarly, it is pretty uncomfortable when standing in line for something and whoever is behind you is so close that you can feel his or her disgusting breath on your neck. They have a word for these kinds of people on the roadway, tailgaters. If you drive slow, drive in the right land, if you need to pass, do it in the left lane. This basic piece of golf etiquette emulates the respect for personal space and can apply almost anywhere in life. For one final comparison, the men might only understand this one, I will say treat every situation involving personal space as if it were taking place at the urinals.
Hit ‘em Long, Hit ‘em Straight,
Sean
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